


Restless

by nyla



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Black & White | Pokemon Black and White Versions, Pocket Monsters: Black 2 & White 2 | Pokemon Black 2 & White 2 Versions
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Depression, F/M, FerrisWheelShipping, Panic Attacks, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:34:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29973297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyla/pseuds/nyla
Summary: A lot has changed since that mysterious boy flew off on the back of the dragon of ideals.
Relationships: N | Natural Harmonia Gropius & Touko | Hilda, N | Natural Harmonia Gropius/Touko | Hilda
Kudos: 4





	Restless

**Author's Note:**

> Years ago I used to RP on Twitter as Touko, under the handle @tenalach (interestingly, around that time the internet proposed that tenalach mean something like "a deep connection to the earth, such that one can hear its heartbeat". Turns out the word in Old Irish means "fireplace" or "hearth"). This piece is an edit and extension of an unfinished fic I was writing at the time.

Always her heart was restless. In still moments her pulse raced. Her fingers tapped. Her eyes identified an escape from any enclosed space. In the early days, after she had handed over her champion status, she jumped at any sudden noise, clutched the closest Poke ball in her belt. Years later she had regained her composure. Cleared her mind. Let go. But Touko knew in her heart she had changed. Even now she had bad days.

***

Tenalach. Hearing the Earth's heartbeat. It was the name of a photography book her father had given to her and her brother once, something he had picked up while abroad. The twins had poured over it, delighting in images of faraway oceans and forests. One image in particular floated in her mind as she closed her eyes and folded her hands in her lap¬---the only way to keep her fingers from fidgeting. It was a full-color page of a vibrant green leaf against the sunlight, its veins illuminated down to the tiniest detail. In a moment Touko's fingers had freed themselves and found her own veins in her wrist. She counted the beats of her pulse and imagined the Earth's to be much the same, but deeper and slower and calmer than her own.

Tenalach. Touko.

She liked the way the words sounded in her mouth. The tapping of her tongue against her teeth. Part of her, a small part, wondered if it were on purpose, some sort of meaningless, heavenly designation that she should have a name and a heartbeat that matched the Earth's.

Tenalach. Touko. Terra.

She liked that kind of connection. The kind that didn't hurt anyone, that only served to make her smile. Not like the connections N had told her about, a series of lies told to him by his own father. 

Touko winced. She didn't want to think about N. It was over. But it was awful. But it was over. Awful, awful. Her nails dug into the dirt.

His hair was like the sunlight glowing through the leaf in the photograph. And his gray eyes, so angry when they met. And she remembered when he left her, he told her things weren't black and white. And in that moment, when he disappeared through the side of his castle, who was black and who was white, like chess pieces in a game she hadn't known she was playing.

The days after were a blur. The flashes of cameras left her blinking. Her brother’s words echoed, a faint voice against the clamor of reporters, “Touko, I think you’re in shock.” Maybe, she thought now, that was the reason memories evaded her.

After the battle, she had been crowned champion. And some days after, she stepped down. Told the League to forget it. She knew they must have protested, but she couldn’t remember the words they said.

And as soon as she left, she set off on the back of her Pokemon. And when her brother’s number flashed across her cross-transceiver, her thumb impulsively clicked to decline the call. Her thoughts raced whenever she considered returning home. Hitting the road was the only thing that felt right. The only thing to steady her pounding heart.

Touko didn't mind the bug bites, the sore back, the small meals spread amongst herself and her Pokémon. It was the endless combing of the region with little to no direction that bothered her. And it was the accumulating voicemails, the sound of concern, of frustration, of that false sweetness she knew was a ploy to bring her to her senses, that reddened her cheeks and brought hot tears of anger to her eyes. Months passed before she responded even to her twin---and, over a year later, her twin only.

She wasn’t adverse to human beings, really. It was folks who knew her that bothered her. Her family. Members of the League. Anyone who recognized her mug from a handful of magazine features, from headlines that touted her scandalous disappearance. But of her true intentions, traveling out here for the past two years, Touko kept mum.

And just like that, the moment passed, and Touko could breathe again. She sniffed, wiped her glistening cheeks. It wasn’t all bad. Folks were kind. Kids challenged her to battles. Old folks exchanged nights in a spare room for weeding the garden or cleaning the house. And she was getting better at cooking, something she had struggled with during her first journey. She had good days.

The sun was setting now. A purple tail brushed against her face: her Liepard, ever-patient, reminding her of the many mouths she had to feed. With slow limbs she crept to her feet, brushed her hands against her shorts. She emptied her bag of its contents: a thermos, rice, beans, stray vegetables she’d acquired in the last town. It would have to do.

After years on the road, Touko had her evening routine down to a fine art. And while she and her team prepped dinner, she turned her mind to her next move. Years ago her journey had focused on two things: battling the toughest trainers she could find and meeting rare Pokemon. Suffice to say she had the scars to prove she had achieved her goals. But as she covered her bubbling pot of rice, she weighed her options. She could continue traveling town to town, region to region, as she had been doing. She could even try her hand at another League Challenge, if she took on a pseudonym. Or—and this thought scared her---she could return home.

It wasn’t that Touko had been wandering aimlessly. With each new town came piles of books to sift through, not to mention Pokemon professors and historians from whom she took notes. And she couldn’t help but ask every Pokemon Center if they had served a green-haired twenty-something with a Zoroark sometime in the recent past. Touko had kept this routine up nearing two years, through changes in Pokemon teams (Liepard had had kittens some months ago, and upon entering a new region, she often fell in love with some Pokemon or other). It was mentally and physically taxing. But when she paused, when she considered stopping for good, anxiety rose up her throat and made her sick. So she carried on.

A familiar chirping jolted Touko back to reality. And sent electricity through her chest. Her Xtransceiver was ringing. She wavered over her cooking pot.

That’s what had set her off in the first place. She had gotten calls from folks across her journeys---some connection or other that hoped to battle or to share information on whatever research she was conducting at the time---but two years of ignoring Unovan numbers had deterred most of her friends and family from contacting her. But when Professor Juniper’s name flashed across the screen---and her voice echoed in the ensuing voice message---Touko’s heart froze.

She had asked her to come back.

Juniper, of all people, had respected Touko’s choice to drop ties with Unova. The professor had even defended the champion against the onslaught of interview requests, not to mention the angry reactions of members of the League, after her resignation. That was something her mother had mentioned in a voice message (Touko hadn’t picked up). If she ever returned home, Touko had decided Juniper would be the first, and perhaps only, person to know.

But it wasn’t right. Juniper knew Touko couldn’t just return home. Despite the threats of---what was it? Some mad scientist behind the helm of a new Team Plasma?---she couldn’t do it. The League could handle it themselves. They would be fine.

Furiously Touko began to jab at a stir fry with a wooden spoon. She let the Xtransceiver ring. She let it go to voicemail. 

The pan sizzled.

And the Xtransceiver began to chirp again.

“Fine. Fucking fine.” Instead of panic, Touko felt a boiling rage well up within her. She could barely see. Impulsively she clicked the Xtransceiver and flung it onto the ground. She’d listen, sure. But she wouldn’t give Juniper the satisfaction of a conversation.

“Hello? Touko?”

The voice was small and tinny. Touko didn’t respond, but instead tossed the vegetables in the pan.

“Touko?”

Nothing. Liepard cast a glance at her trainer and padded closer to the Xtransceiver, tail flicking in and out of view.

“Ah, Liepard. At least I know someone’s listening,” Juniper chuckled on the other end. She sighed. “All right, Touko, I know you are ignoring me, and I suppose for good reason, too. But I have some, ah, information you may like to hear.

“I don’t think I made my point clear in my first call. This time I’ll cut to the chase. I have reason to believe N has returned to Unova.”


End file.
